


From Foes to Bros

by dellazay



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humour, M/M, Politics, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dellazay/pseuds/dellazay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Adeus falls out of a Fade Rift and is taken to Skyhold to be questioned by Inquisitor Lilith, only to find out that he too survived the Conclave and was just taking his sweet time trying to make friends with the fucking spiders in the Fade. Journey with them as they take on the baddies of Thedas, attempt to survive Orlesian politics, and navigate the world of doomed relationships!<br/>(Stay sharp, kids. It will be one hell of a ride.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shallow Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, he knew things about her that her companions could never know, and she would make sure he never told… Perhaps it had been a wiser move to let him bleed out by the sea, but that thought just didn’t sit right with her. Sacrificing members of her own Clan to keep secrets wasn’t something heroes did, not that she regarded herself a hero. But perhaps at least she thought of herself as a decent person, one that didn’t allow the blood of old friends to stain her hands.

The moment his hands hit the ground he knew he was free. The sickly green gave away to a vast expanse of blue that stretched above him as he flipped onto his back, chest heaving. His hand spasmed and the Rift closed with a clean _pop_ , assuring him the worst was over.

The smell of salt water and evergreens clung to the air, a mysterious combination that made his nose tingle. One such combination that was native to the Hinterlands. But there was another smell too, one far more bitter than the sweet scent of the lush clearing. Something was _burning_. Sniffing at the air, the young Elf forced himself to his shaky legs, scanning his old world with watery eyes. It was far brighter than the Fade.

The screeching came quick and sudden, so close that Adeus swore it was directly over his head. His feet pelted the ground so hard he insisted that he felt the world shake, but perhaps only because the giant beast had landed behind him with such heavy limbs that the earth fell loose beneath it. The scream came again, so shrill that he had to push his hands against his head to keep it from spinning. He had stumbled upon it’s nest, and it’s children. With the swing of it’s wings it caught Adeus in a vicious windstorm, sending him sprawling to the moss covered ground.

His moment of recovery was swift, only leaving him with a loud pulse in his temples, but her cry was far louder than his heart beat. Everything happened too fast, he hardly had time to draw his daggers.

The battle cry matched the dragon’s in both volume and brutality, drawing the winged reptile’s attention from the downed rogue.

She flew like an eagle—an angry, screeching, bloodthirsty eagle—across the battlefield, limbs flailing into her battle stance. Behind her followed a huge qunari, a scornful looking mage, and a grinning dwarf. Adeus couldn’t help but stare.

They went to action fast, covering each other with such skill that only practice could master. The eccentric one and the qunari were getting a bit banged up, and far too excited as they flew through an array of equally impressing and partially frightening battle moves that could only be described as _effective_.

He was regarding them with such curiosity and interest that he hardly noticed the warm trickle that pooled straight down the middle of his forehead, swelling around his eyes. The edges of his vision were blurring slowly, yet the sideways grin stayed stuck upon his face because, well, this team may not be professional dragon slayers but _damn_ were they entertaining. Their amusingly comical yet brutal methods offered a sweet distraction, even as Adeus’s elbows sunk lower into the soil and his head slumped forward slightly. The moment he succumbed to the tantalizing desire of slumber, the earth rumbled. Was it his head again, or had the beast been killed?

 

* * *

 

“ _You know him_?” Josephine and Cullen questioned in unison, the expressions on their face the furthest from happy.

Lilith gave a stiff nod, but her eyes did not meet theirs. Instead, they focused on the painted windows that turned the sunlight to a mosaic of purple, red, and blue across their War Table.

Josephine sighed, a sound that suggested she thought their time would be better spent doing something else—anything else—than tending to a ridiculous elf that picked a fight with a dragon. _Maker help them_ , how were they ever going to appeal to residents of The Winter Palace with all these distractions?

“He seems like trouble, Inquisitor.” Cullen stated, a bit more capable of hiding the mix of dread and disgust on his face than Josie. “Are you certain we can trust him?”

“If we couldn’t do you think I would have brought him here?” Lilith replied coolly, her sage exterior present in light of the events. “And besides, it’s nice for me to know someone in my Clan who doesn’t… Think I’m a fuck up.”

“If I may ask,” Leliana finally spoke after listening intentively to the entirety of the exchange. “Were you and this rogue close in your Clan?”

The Herald nodded again, eyes wandering back to her advisors faces. _The warrior, the diplomat, the assassin_. And yet with all their titles and victories, their faces were a blur of fear, worry, and frustration. Their leader was halting her current operations—and for what? The safety of some young elf that none of them had ever heard of before?

While Adeus was far from legendary, she assured them that he packed a punch and could certainly be a valuable ally—if not an unpredictable one. No matter, because his loyalty wasn’t what mattered most to her. No, he knew things about her that her companions could never know, and she would make sure he never told… Perhaps it had been a wiser move to let him bleed out by the sea, but that thought just didn’t sit right with her. Sacrificing members of her own Clan to keep secrets wasn’t something heroes did, not that she regarded herself a hero. But perhaps at least she thought of herself as a _decent_ person, one that didn’t allow the blood of old friends to stain her hands.

Whatever her fears, Lilith convinced her advisors to follow through with his treatments and hourly visits from a healer, demanding that she be informed when he awoke.

For now, however, she decided to pay a visit to Solas. He hadn’t been asking after her Clan member all that much, but the curiosity was distinct on his features since the moment they had found Adeus. Whatever his concerns were, she was sure she could satisfy them for now, but that would require a cautious mindset and a _much_ _shorter_ skirt.

 

* * *

 

The Rotunda was quiet, peaceful even with the soft glow of lanterns illuminating her lover’s work space. He had been working on a mural when she had found him, but now he sat at his desk, scrawling Elven onto a parchment and trying to ignore her playful tones, sensual remarks, and the fact that her foot was creeping up the inside of his thigh. She sat cross legged atop his desk, laughing softly every time his jaw clenched as she curled her toes, testing his concentration on his work. But oh, no, he would not let her win… No matter how much he wanted to.

“How is your patient feeling?” He asked, in attempt to change the subject.

“Still asleep.” She replied indifferently, clearly not worried. He was tough, and he had been through much worse than that.

“And there has been no night terrors?” Solas asked, still scanning his papers with eyes as frigid as his posture. He was too busy to indulge now.

“None reported. No fevers or chills either. Just blood loss, I’d imagine. The healer said there was no trauma to the skull or traits of a concussion.” After informing him swiftly, she tapped her toe on his thigh, moving to a different tactic. In a fluid motion she had slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and making a sound with her tongue that could only be described as a _purr_.

He gulped. Audibly.

This would be harder than he thought.

To Solas’s relief (but mostly disappointment), one of the healers burst through the door, holding his face with one hand. His eyes were wide and wild, and blood dripped from his lips and his nose, which was now bent at a 90 degree angle.

“The prisoner is awake!” He gasped through the thick ichor.

“And he has gone simply mad.”

 

* * *

 

The screams were audible from the stairway as Lilith and Solas frantically made their way to the source of the horrible noise. His distressed calls were cracked and dry, as if he spoke in a voice that hadn’t been used for months. When they burst into the room the scene before them was simply _horrific_. Four guards had each of his limbs pinned, yet he still managed to dodge the other healer as he offered him a sedative. His yelps were savage, and sounded similar to the cries of a beaten dog. The gauze that wrapped around his head had begun to slide off, exposing his gory gash and splattering blood over his bedding. When his eyes met Solas’s at the door he froze, eyes glazing slightly. Lilith could not tell if it was fear or relief that was revealed on the elf’s features.

The distraction allowed the healer time to slip the drops into his splintered lips, but Adeus hardly noticed. In his trance like state he uttered only one word. Lucky for Solas’s sake, his voice was now too damaged to be audible to anyone else in the room. The rogue’s head lolled back onto the scarlet speckled pillow and each guard emitted a thankful sigh, cautiously moving away from his bed.

Lilith watched, mouth parted in shock. Whatever had happened to her friend, it was not what she expected. He looked even more terrorized than ever, and surely in worse condition than he had been when they found him. Pity sent her to his bedside, but she vanquished it nearly immediately. Pity was Adeus’s worst enemy, that much she remembered.

Solas’s heart raced. Was his mind playing tricks on him or had one of Lilith’s Clan members just identified him as “ _wolf_ ”? Surely he could not have imagined that.

“Perhaps we should leave the healers to their work.” Solas suggested, feeling the anxiety creep up his body like a chill. He had to get her away from him.

“And leave him like that again? Not a chance. He was my _friend_ , Solas. I’m not going to abandon him.”

She was stubborn, but he knew she saw reason.

“And how can you help him? Do you plan on healing him with your axe?”

“Yes,” she grumbled, pressing the palm of her hand to her friends’ forehead, “ _Cunt Destroyer_ is very reassuring when you’re sick.”

But one of the healers interjected, his head bowed low as he laid a cool rag over Adeus’s head in the place of Lilith’s hand. “He is not sick, my dear. The loss of blood was not that great… I’d diagnose him primarily as being… possessed, or something of the sort. He's not alright up here.” His tone was gentle as he gestured to his own head, but his speech was crippled with fear and confusion. They were not equipped to deal with these things, her healers, though his conclusion had not been proven. The sympathy on his face was mocking, Lilith thought as she looked away. There was nothing _wrong_ with her friend, nothing at all. 

Lilith looked to Solas with wide eyes, expecting his input on the subject. He did not give it, though his expression borderlined on _amused_.

“Ma Vhenan, he is hysterical. You can aid him most by allowing his healers to tend to him. For now, you too need your rest.”

Though Lilith wasn’t keen on receiving orders from her lover, she nodded. She _was_ pretty damn tired, and deep down knew that nothing would be accomplished by standing over the sick and—what? Praying?

Her bed felt cold that night with the absence of Solas, who had insisted he sleep in his own room. She argued for a moment, but the fatigue was too overwhelming, and so she trudged to her room alone, hoping that at least Fen would curl up beside her. Tossing and turning was proving to be an unsuccessful way of rest, so she rose to stalk the length of her room, much like a caged animal. Thoughts plagued her mind, driving away her will to sleep and leaving her picking at her hands, leaving red cracks along her cuticles and knuckles.

 

* * *

 

The hand Solas ran over the rogue’s body was sure and gentle, but it flickered sadistically, drawing whimpers from the sleeping boy. Solas did not like this part anymore than anyone would have, but he had to confirm his suspicions. He had traveled the eerie blaze over the length of his body, leaving Adeus quaking in his slumber. When Solas brought his hand once more to his head, Adeus’s willowy frame spasmed, and the anchor on his left hand fizzled loudly.

So it was true. How would the world react when they heard of two Heralds, both Elven?

Not well.

Solas could not bear to think of the uproar that would cause. He dropped his hand to his side and Adeus’s anchor was silenced, the virescent glow dimming to darkness. _There are ways to suppress it_ , Solas told himself, brows furrowing quizzically as he leafed mentally through his options. Finally, he laid one hand on Adeus’s, and the other on the boy's mouth to muffle the anticipated scream.

When the deed was done, there was no such cry. Instead, the elf opened his narrow eyes to regard Solas with a bewildered expression. The mage held his breath. This time he did not address him as an animal, nor did his eyes grow wide with alarm. Instead he reached for him, covering his hand with his own where it lay on his freckled arm.

“Thanks,” he breathed, “but lean in. Closer.” His voice was weak, so Solas complied, bending to hear him better.

He should have left. Would he tell the healers he had been here? Or worse yet; would he tell Lilith?

But his curiosity was left forever unquenchable, so he brought his ear closer.

"You… You have a hickey.” Adeus whispered, a devious grin illuminating his face.

_Thank you, Lilith._

“Perhaps it might be wise to cover it, should another member of your ever polished organization see it… Or maybe that wouldn’t be a problem, seeing that you’re fucking the boss.” He may have felt weak, but his chuckle was so loud that it practically echoed off the walls as Solas pulled away, flipping up his collar. His cheeks began to burn a furious red, and he turned to leave so quick that he nearly ran straight into the dresser.

But he was not in the clear from this embarrassing, pain of an elf yet.

“Solas,” Adeus hissed as he made his swift escape, “could you snag me some chocolate? All they’ve been feeding me if this disgusting root ground into a paste. Horrible stuff, really.”

The request was so ridiculous that Solas barely noticed that the elf had called him by name, instead quickening his pace in his attempt to flee. However ludicrous he had expected this boy to be, this was far more than he had bargained for.

“No wonder Lilith got along with him so well,” He grumbled as he crossed the Throne Room, painfully aware that his face still glowed as crimson as his neck.

 

* * *

 

“This little hairball reminds me of… Well, me!” Adeus exclaimed as the cat snarled, but that hardly stopped the elf from entangling the noisy thing in his arms and murmuring into it’s pinned-back ears. Lilith laughed wholeheartedly, reaching to scratch her little beast on his head.

“He does have your particular sauciness. And I think he’s starting to like you!” She said optimistically, even though Fen still emitted a low pitched murmur as a warning for his next oncoming attack. His ferocity hardly bothered Adeus, whose forearms were now ragged with scratches and bite marks.

Holding the writhing thing outstretched in his arms, the boy made a face at his new furry friend. “Is someone a little grumpy today?” He asked in a pouting tone, to which Fen replied with a swat to his cheek.

Adeus laughed and pulled him back in for another hug, until the poor thing finally managed to scramble out of his arms and off the bed, only to go ripping off down the stairs.

“He does that.” Lilith assured, but her friend was still giggling as he tried to pick the bits of black hair off his tongue.

“That’s alright, I can always find him later. So, what next then?”

Her eyebrows rose skeptically.

“Well, my job was to entertain you so you wouldn’t be escaping your bed… Again…”

“Come on, Lilith!” He blurted before she could get the words out, “I’m bored. I can’t sit still for this long, and I want to see your castle!”

As he crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, Lilith was reminded of a child’s impatience. And obstinacy.

With a long, melodramatic sigh, she finally nodded her agreement, and Adeus lept from his covers in a flash. His garb was not… Exactly _appropriate_ for the crowd outside her doors, what with all the Chantry sisters out and about her court yard.

“Throw some pants on,” She instructed, rising to leave, “I’ll wait outside. If I’m giving you a tour we’re doing the boring stuff first, like the Library or something.”

Adeus nodded as the door closed behind her, finally giving his room a good look from a view that wasn’t beneath hot and heavy linens and furs. They had given him a beautiful room, much finer than any he had stayed in prior. The walls were lined with tapestries that depicted glorious battles, and wide windows that offered glimpses of the vast mountains.

The furnishings were sturdy and homely. An oak dresser that had been stuffed to the brim alongside his bed drew his eye. Though it didn't hold his usual fashions, he figured the clean clothing would be better than his bloodstained cloak and rusted gauntlets.

Seated in front of the vanity, he drew charcoal from the pouch they had allowed him to keep. They had confiscated his daggers, for "safety purposes". The small bag was filled with his modest belongings; the kohl he was currently using to heavily line his eyes, the eye of a spider from the Fade, a cracked golden Orlesian mirror, and a small silver dagger with a ruby encrusted in the hilt. It was more decorative than anything, but he was sure the thing would serve useful should he need it.

When the work on his eyes was done and they popped like two suns, he was nearly ready. Striding to the dresser, he picked an outfit of elk hide trimmed with fur. He layered a canine leather vest over it, with a silk cloak fastened onto the shoulders to dangle over his back. It was sure to keep him warm in weather he could only assume was unlike what he was used to.

Adeus hated the cold. He hated rain, he hated snow. He longed for long summer days in the sun, not frost bitten toes and candlelit evenings. But a palace was a palace, and he was practically giddy to explore.

“Ready yet, princess?” Lilith’s voice came, muffled through the door as she rapped her knuckles against it.

In a reply, he flung open the door and struck a pose, which she applauded with a familiar laugh, just like old times. “Oooooh, _sexy_. My poor companions won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“Your what?” He puzzled, raising a dark brow.

“You’ll see. Let’s go!”

Lilith chattered all the way down the stairs, instructing him on what to say, what _not_ to say, who to say what to, whom not to speak to at all, before—at long last— they reached their first stop; the dreaded Library.

Who was there again? Varric, Dagna, Sera? He could not remember, but he sure hoped whoever it was wouldn’t chew him up and spit him out. When he saw Dorian, he knew that was exactly what was about to happen.

The mage stood with a book in hand, a captivatingly ominous figure outlined by the gold streams of sunlight that illuminated every god damn fleck of dust in the air. The first look didn’t do him justice, really. He was too regal to be surrounded by cracked, yellowed paper and fine dirt. He deserved jewels, silks, dancing, gold and ballrooms, Adeus thought, his eyes fixating on the man. His nose curved wickedly, and the grin on his lips was devious, and yet he looked _welcoming_. Suddenly, the elf was very aware of the grime beneath his nails and the bloodied gauze around his head. Dirt had worked its way into every pore of his body, and it made its home there. Years of sleeping outside beside fires made his hair smell permanently of smoke and berries. His Dalish roots set him apart from this kingly human, and he was well aware of it.

When Lilith bid him a proud “hello”, Adeus squared his shoulders. The rock in his throat would not intimidate him, though with each passing second it felt more like a corpulent boulder.

“Ah, the prisoner. That _is_ what we’ve taken to calling him, right?” Even his voice rendered Adeus breathless.

 _Fuck_.

“He isn’t our prisoner, he’s an old friend. The Inquisition is just helping him get back on his feet.” That was rewarded by Adeus’s famous death glare, but Lilith merely waved him off.

“I see.” Dorian’s eyes lifted to gaze at the crimson cloth over his head, then flashed him a smile. “ _You_ went after a dragon on your own?”

Why was he speaking to him like a child? Adeus narrowed his eyes, blazing bronze slits that scorched anything in their path… And yet, the Tevinter man kept grinning. Who did this shem think he was?

His mouth opened to reply heatedly, but Lilith once more swept in to save the day.

“Careful Dorian, he bites.”

To confirm her warning, Adeus snapped his jaws at the man before him, deciding he might as well put on a show.

Dorian chuckled, but it hardly sounded genuine. “There are some who would find that charming.”

“And are you one?” Adeus inquired before he could stop himself, then immediately felt the hot pain of a blush expand over the length of his face. _What was he doing?_

Luckily Adeus was not the only one tongue tied. He could see Dorian chew the inside of his cheek before turning back to the shelf behind him. “Perhaps you’ll find out.”

Lilith had to _drag_ the poor boy away. He was stuck in place, jaw locked tightly as she yanked him backwards. His internal dialogue had begun a chanting choir of _idiot, idiot, idiot_. Could he have been more cringe-worthy? When they were a suitable distance away she began to cackle, throwing her head back. “You like him!” She hissed into his still burning ears.

“I do not! He’s too arrogant, a-and…”

“Hot?” Lilith supplied, raising her brows and she circled her arm around the crook of his elbow.

“ _So_ hot. _So so hot_.”

His friend exploded once more in a fit of laughter and they made their way to the Atrium. Today would be a long day, Adeus decided, his face still blistering from the first encounter.

“Next stop: my beautiful, racist, shiny-headed boyfriend! I’m sure you two will get along _splendidly_.”

Adeus was inclined to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and congrats if you got through all of that chaos and untied ends!  
> More about Lilith


	2. Of Maniacs and Morons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories from times before the Fade come charging back to the pair of Lavellan’s as they make plans to save their people from ancient Tevinter Magisters (a distraction fit to send Josephine over the brink of insanity). Skyhold is in disarray as everyone prepares for the horrors they will soon face at the Winter Palace, though Lilith remains impartial and holds her values close. Also, Adeus totally gets it in with Dorian. Oh yeah, he’s in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer’s note: This shit is fluffy enough to be a cloud, sorry ‘bout it. Next chapter will be positively filled with violence and angst! ;)

The camp had been quiet that day, oddly so. The plains around them were vast and dry, interrupted only by the mountainous rivulets that broke across the sea of grass far to the North. The Halla grazed peacefully closeby, trimming the scourged land. The sky was wide and bleak, the sun a grey disc behind its shield of hazy clouds.

 

Adeus woke with a groan, stretching his hands far over his head. Gods, he already _felt_ sore, and his day of travelling still had yet to commence. He rubbed the sleep from his eye and ducked out of his makeshift home, into the dreary morning light.

 

The weather didn’t keep his people down. Herds of elves were already running around the camp to attend their various jobs, and prepare for the great day. He felt his stomach turn at the excitement. It was a lovely day—his day.

 

Soon, he would offer his Gods the greatest price he could pay—you know— _without_ dying. His own flesh would soon be marked forever, a worthy sacrifice to pay for the respect of his fellow Clan mates.

 

With a spring in his step, he set off in search of his aunt. She had the honor (and curse) of being Keeper. Of late, their trades with humans had been… Less than satisfactory, their rations cut unfairly because of the drought that plagued the land they were travelling through. Adeus knew it would soon be time to find a new human settlement, one that wouldn’t be so stingy with their trades. They were giving away all the food they had for supplies, saving hardly any for their own people—and for what? Bits of string that could hardly sew a full tent, scraps of metal that could never rival the might of their ironbark, which had also been a scarcity without any trees for miles.

 

He wandered towards his aunt’s tent, but was swiftly distracted by the nudge on his ankle. Adeus had a habit of feeding their neighbors, and recently a small herd of nugs had taken to following their aravels. No one seemed to mind for their meat was rich, and though Adeus protested their killings, he couldn’t argue that Clan Lavellan was starving. Because of the new delicacy, he had taken to travelling far from camp to feed his small, hairless friends. The method was, apparently, not working. Kneeling quickly, he took the tiny nug in his arms and slipped him into the folds of his leather vest, concealing him while searching frantically for a place to hide until he could move him far from the hungry mouths of his kin. No nug _that_ adorable would be killed for meat, atleast not because of him. He began to make a break for his tent, but a friendly arm slipped around his slender shoulders.

 

“ _Aneth ara_ , Adeus.” Deshanna smiled warmly as she looked down at him, eyes crinkling as the ancient ones do. “A beautiful day for a beautiful elf, is it not?”

 

The expression on her face suggested that she may be more excited than he was—she practically radiated eagerness.

 

“You flatter me.” Adeus muttered, rolling his eyes, but the swell of pride lurched his heart to the front of his chest.

 

“Your kill was impressive.” She began to guide him forward, arm still over him like a mother bird. “Usually elves of your… Stature are unable to capture an animal that large, much less bring it home.”

 

Adeus listened halfheartedly, focusing mainly on trying to hush the squealing animal that wriggled under his clothes. The Keeper continued to express her pride, even as she guided him into her tent. However, after she had pulled the flap over the door behind them she placed her hands on her hips, a stern expression sliding casually over her features.

 

“Adeus, what have I told you about bringing _companions_ into camp?”

 

He began to argue, shifting the nug out of his vest and between his arms. “But, he’s so cute! And he’s only a _nug_ , not a full grown monkey like Lilith brought back!”

 

“Adeus, our hunters will _eat_ him if you keep him here.”

 

The young elf brought the nug to his face, nuzzling him warmly. “Let them try. Sir Nugsy can defend himself.” It had only been three days since the little runt had taken to trailing through the camp after Adeus, but he wasted no time in naming him.

 

“Sir Nugsy?” Deshanna sighed, a tired expression that suggested she was quite done with his antics.

 

“Too formal? Maybe you’re right… I thought maybe Deathnug, or Thunderhumper, or Elgar’nug the Nug of Vengeance—”

 

“Adeus!” Deshanna cried, clasping her hands over her face. “You are not to poke fun at the names of our Gods! Why, when did you become so disrespectful?”

 

The way she fell despairingly into her fur chair wiped the smile clean off her nephew’s face. He hadn’t meant to offend her, really he hadn’t. Hers was the only opinion that mattered to Adeus, it had always been. Quickly he kneeled at her side, watching with concern as she rubbed her temples. When had she become so weary? Why hadn’t he noticed until now?

 

“I-I am so sorry, Keeper. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I thought you would laugh.” He whispered, allowing his nug to roam free of his arms.

 

She finished massaging her wrinkled forehead and looked down at him with the most heart wrenching smile he could have imagined on her face.

 

“Normally I would have. _Ir abelas_ , these human confrontations have put a great strain on my shoulders.” For a few more moments they sat like that, in silence, listening as the chaos of harvesting ensued outside. Gatherers would be searching for resources, hunters would be gone until dark, and the others would be tending to the aravels. Halla would be fed and prepared, but the children could not afford to be. Their futures laid in Orlais, a thought that rendered Adeus sick… He had never been fond of the entitlement that humans held there, but perhaps the trade would be rich, if the Dalish could prove them self worthy of it.

 

“Well,” Deshanna finally said, shooting him a grin, her features restored to their natural, kind glow, “shall we begin the blood writing? It is a prideful day, child, and I will not let it be ruined so easily.”

 

* * *

 

“Solas, _no_. I haven’t slept in days, it seems, and I’m finally comfortable.” Lilith grumbled beneath her fortress of quilts and bedding. Her hair was mussed up on one side, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. The mage couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

“Cullen is causing quite a scene without you, this whole situation seems to be… Straining him.” Solas replied softly, his posture tall and chin high as he stood stubbornly beside her bed.

 

“When have you ever cared about Cullen’s activities? Uhg, just let me _sleep_.” Her scarlet painted face buried itself into a fluffy pillow, and Solas hunched defeatedly onto her bed.

 

“Inquisitor, you have duties that—”

 

“ _Never_ call me Inquisitor in my bedroom. Or any bedroom for that matter.”

 

“ _Ma Vhenan_ , you have duties that must be attended to. You have responsibilities…” As he attempted to guilt her from the confines of her blankets, frustrated amber eyes peeked out.

 

“Convince me.” She yawned, voice muffled through the linen pillow.

 

“I… Beg your pardon?” Solas said unsurely, his hands clasping between his knees as he watched her.

 

“I’ll get out of this bed, but first you have to get _in_ it.”

 

Now he had two options: he could tell her that she was being ridiculous and that it would only waste more time, or he could succumb to her wishes and succeed in a win-win situation. He chose the later one.

 

In a flash he was on her, flipping his lover onto her back as she released a slightly startled cry, which he silenced swiftly with his lips. Technically, he _was_ only responding to strict orders from the Seeker—”Uhg, just get her out of bed at any cost. If you have to drag her, so be it… Just do something before Leliana and Cullen settle official Inquisition matters with a game of chess. Ridiculous.”

 

At any cost… His careful restraint would be a worthy price, he figured. Days of avoiding indulgence, to waste… And for what?

 

The inevitable?

 

* * *

 

Reports flowed back and forth between the hands of her advisors, each one updating their own progress reports and approving those of others. Their minds were racing with plans, tackling the challenges of leading an organization of such might. The time to throw their Inquisitor into a war of unfamiliar politics was fast approaching, and Josephine vowed she would not go unarmed. The ambassador hadn’t slept in three days, if the circles below her bloodshot eyes were any evidence. When Cullen attempted to comfort her, she merely cried, “Lilith cannot fight royalty with a battle axe, she needs us! She needs me, and I won’t rest until she is fully prepared.”

 

They had questioned Adeus to no end—the other advisors—the night before. Anything from his familial background to where he obtained training, and mostly they wound up with more questions than answers. They found that he had survived the Conclave through strategic hiding places beneath the deepest temple cellars, and though he did not reveal _why_ he had been in attendance, his confession of being an assassin made it quite clear. After his own master had liberated him from his Tevinter bound chains, the man had offered him a hefty sum of gold in the exchange of bloodied hands. Truthfully, Adeus knew he was just a pawn to take the fall for a crime that was sure to be talked about all through Thedas, but he didn’t mind.

 

“ _I_ _didn’t know any of the parties involved, all I knew is that the mages were being treated like dirt. Being familiar with such treatment, I made a plan of making off with the coin and killing whomever I please, which would be that scum of a templar leader. For the drama of it all, you know.”_ He revealed, and Cullen scoffed loudly. Needless to say, they didn’t get off on the right foot.

 

Josie hadn’t _asked_ Adeus to help her, at least not consciously... But when he came across her at her desk, sleeping soundly with smudged ink on her cheek and a half written letter clasped in her hands, he concluded that she was in dire need of it.

 

The note that she hadn’t finished spoke of _Lineage books_ , _De Chalons_ , and _forming truces_ with royal families. Easy enough, the boy figured, making off to fetch the books for her so that she may scratch at least  _one_ of those things off her list.

 

The library was alive with the glow of magical lanterns—the mages had decided that authentic flame around old, dry books was not the brightest of ideas—and each wall glimmered a soft shade of crimson in the early sunlight. Adeus peeked down several rows of their leather bound articles before he came across his favourite human. He was stretched at the top of a latter, arm outstretched to reach something on the top shelf.

 

 _Magnificent,_ Adeus thought as his eyes greedily drank in the scene before him; Dorian was strained in such a fashion that made his protruding bottom both entirely visible and _quite_ flattering, if Adeus dare say so himself.

 

“Enjoying the view? Oh, why do I ask… Of course you are.” A playful gaze regarded their new companion from the corner of the mage’s eye, a red gleam cast into the brown filaments, courtesy of the crimson lighting.

 

Still, the lanterns were no match for the flush of blood that crept through the elf’s slimmed cheeks. When Adeus could summon no response quite witty enough to suit his friend (or any response at all for that matter), Dorian climbed down the length of the shelves.

 

“What brings you to my humble abode _this_ time, Adeus?”

 

The way he said his name gave the elf _chills_. He hadn’t even noted the amusement that crossed his voice as he casually referred to his recent trips. Uhg, he rendered him totally incompable.

 

“I’m running errands for Josie.” Adeus lied swiftly, finally gathering himself enough to form words that weren’t totally incomprehensible. For once.

 

Dorian’s calculating eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Josie is letting _you_ run errands for her?”

 

The rogue shrugged, attempting to play it cool. “Yes, why?”

 

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way but… Our ambassador sees you more as a _pest_ than an errand boy.”

 

Well, that _was_ true.

 

“Alright, so maybe she doesn’t _know_ that I’m running errands for her. Besides the point. I came for lineage books on the _do Chalans_.”

 

His friend chuckled, and it caused Adeus’s own visage to break into a proud grin. “You mean _de Chalons_. Of course, I know exactly where to find books of such boring subjects.”

 

Adeus begun to thank him, but the wretchedly unpredictable man raised a sharp hand. “But first, I need your help.”

 

“Of course.” He had responded immediately. _Idiot_.

 

The quick reply only made Dorian chuckle warmly again before he gestured to the top shelf, face hardening back into it’s disgusted self as he noted his apparent failure. “I’ve been struggling to reach that book for almost twenty minutes. I know you’re shorter than me, but I figured with your specific skill set, you may have more luck than I.”

 

Adeus glanced at the black spine of the book and nodded, the challenge causing excitement to rise. No matter how simple the task, Adeus had a knack for making adventure’s out of them.

 

He drew his daggers from their sheaths—the prize he had regained for cooperating in the interrogation—and dropped them into Dorian’s arms. “Hold these, and protect them with your life.” The mage’s only reply was a skeptically raised eyebrow.

 

Adeus got to work immediately; flexing his shoulders and cracking various body parts free of any constraint. This display went on for quite some time before Dorian cleared his throat, but even as he expressed his impatience, the young elf gave a feline-like leap and landed with his hands clinging to the third shelf above his head.

 

“Perhaps a… Latter would be in your best interest?” Dorian tested tentatively, settling on the epiphany that their new companion would have less than half the luck he had.

 

The words did not jarr Adeus. He merely swung his bare toes up to settle them between the book spines and the very edge of the oaken shelf,  continuing his tactic throughout the length of the case. Soon, he had arrived at the second highest shelf, and was straining to glimpse at the book titles above.

 

“What did you say the title was?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

Adeus shot him a very annoyed look, followed by a gesture of helplessness. “Tell me, Dorian… How in the _fuck_ do you expect me to grab your book without knowing which one to grab? Also, do take your time. It isn’t as if I’m _hanging off the last centimeters of a god damn shelf._ ” He spoke as if talking to a child, all slow words and a condescending tone.

 

Dorian rolled his eyes, though he had to admit, this strange little elf was definitely something else.

 

“Just grab the black one, with the red writing.” He instructed, pointing with the hand that wasn’t clutching the daggers far from his body.

 

Adeus complied, and looked down, perhaps weighing the consequences of a mighty leap of faith.

 

“Don’t you dare.” Dorian warned, pointing a finger at him. “I will not scrape your broken corpse off the library floor.”

 

Huffing and puffing, Adeus climbed down, step by step—or shelf by shelf—until he was at a suitable distance to drop safely to the ground. He held the book out, but when a gracious looking Dorian reached for it, the pesky thing pulled it back.

 

“ _History of Slavery in Tevinter_ ,” He muttered, and Dorian’s face fell as he read the title out loud before the elf fixed him with a questioning glance. “Why do _you_ want to waste your time reading this crap?”

 

The hostility in Adeus’s voice took Dorian by surprise, yet to save face he raised his chin and replied, “To educate myself. Last week the Inquisitor and I had a falling out over this particular subject…”

 

“Falling out?” Adeus repeated under his breath, turning the ebony covered article in his hands. “If you want education, don’t waste your time with this.” He finally stated, handing it to him.

 

“Why?” The mage asked, raising his eyebrows at the book, then to Adeus.

 

“It’s inaccurate. No amount of pages can describe what slavery in Tevinter is like. If you’re quite interested, I figure I could retell my experience.” His voice was hollow, a strange feat for the ever expressionative man. But when Dorian fixed him with a serious look and he saw the pity flooding beneath his eyes, he flashed a grin.

 

“I’m a pretty good story-teller. Maybe I should challenge Varric?”

 

Dorian sighed and returned the smile, only it was much more sorrowful. “You were a slave?” He asked, but the way his lips tightened suggested he was going to apologize. Perhaps, Adeus thought, for the first time in his life.

 

“Yes, but nothing gruesome. The man who held me was… Kind, in a sense. He meant well, I suppose I was only there because it was the social norm to own your own little elf boy.”

 

Just then, someone cleared their throat at the end of the book shelf. Lilith stood, leaning against one of the massive cases with her arms crossed and her scarlet lips grinning. “Adeus!” She called in a sing song voice, “Sorry for being a cockblock, but I need you for a second!”

 

_Thank you very much, Lilith._

 

Luckily he made it back to his freckled friend before Dorian could see the tips of his ears turn bright red. “What the fuck? You are _the_ worst wingman.” He spat through clenched teeth, but she only laughed.

 

“C’mon. The war room has become a war zone and I need your opinion on some things.” She laughed it off, as if Cullen hadn’t thrown a chair across the room and Leliana hadn’t nearly stormed out.

 

“ _My_ opinion?”

 

“I wouldn’t interrupt your foreplay if I didn’t need it!” She assured, but when he bristled she merely took him by the arm and dragged him through the Throne room.

 

* * *

 

“I _told_ you, Commander! If we approach this with force, they’ll fight back and we’ll lose more men.”

 

“And I told you, Ambassador, that those sniveling Venatori can kiss my-”

 

“Cullen!”

 

“Sorry.” Cullen grumbled, one hand reaching behind his head to scratch his neck. “But it’s true. We have to be sensible about this—”

 

“ _Exactly_. My people will finish the job quickly and quietly, you can have faith in that.” Leliana spoke, her demeanor cold and calm, as if she suspected she knew something the others did not.  

 

Josie turned to her, hand on hip, and stared her down. “Or they will get themselves captured, and interrogated. Surely, we don’t need Corypheus tracking us down while we’re still readying ourselves.”

 

“I see no progress has been made.” Lilith announced her presence calmly, strolling into the room with Adeus following like a lost puppy.

 

“Inquisitor, I mean no disrespect, but why is—”

 

“If you mean no disrespect, then don’t ask.” Their leader shut her commander down swiftly yet politely, her know-all exterior cracking beneath a surface of intricate, red tattoos. The war room was her domain, and she owned it. It was a side of her that Adeus never had a chance to see in the camp, and it demanded respect.

 

“Can someone tell me why I’m here?” Adeus asked snarkily, attempting to hide his uncertainty and unworthiness beneath an attitude, as per usual.

 

“There have been reports of Venatori activity surrounding one of your fellow Dalish Clans,” He was grateful that Leliana had briefly answered his question—the look in Cullen’s eyes suggested he was ready to throw the elf out of a window next.

 

“And… You want to send _soldiers_ into the mix?” Adeus asked slowly, raising his brows at Cullen.

 

The look he was being given by _both_ of the people of elven origins made their commander back down immediately. “Why-I… Yes, I suppose?” He asked awkwardly, breaking the eye contact to scowl confusedly at his boots.

 

“Rookie mistake when dealing with the Dalish.” Lilith assured him, turning to watch her other advisors as Cullen grumbled about something or another.

 

“I personally believe a diplomatic and friendly approach would bring the best results,” Lilith carried on, giving Josephine a look of approval. “But, Adeus, what is your stance?”

 

Adeus cleared his throat awkwardly before returning the curious gaze of the advisors, one hand fiddling with the brass buttons at his throat. “Diplomacy is helpful when used with our people, but the Venatori are… Ruthless. We need to oppose this with force, without frightening recluse Dalish leaders. I believe Leliana’s people may be able to deal with this quietly yet… Successfully. They’ll force the Venatori far from Dalish borders.”

 

Leliana smiled thankfully, and Josephine turned quickly to Lilith. “Inquisitor?”

 

Her face was pensive, considering the outcome of each choice. After a few moments of silence, she nodded slowly. “No… He’s right. The Venatori need a message for now… At least until we can get there and rid them completely.”

 

“Inquisitor?” Cullen asked, taking a step forward.

 

“Yes, I plan on travelling there myself. After we are prepared for the Palace, of course. When I depart, I want Adeus with me, should he feel up to it.” She shot him a concealed smile before turning back to a gaping Josephine.

 

“And if we are not ready in time? There is still so much to prepare and I...” She drifted off, fluttering into a state of sheer panic.

 

“Josie, we will be.” Leliana assured her as she placed a friendly hand on her shoulder.

 

“Have faith in me, Josie.” Lilith added warmly, a half smile playing on her lips. The ambassador merely shook her head and fled the room, leaving the group in a state of sad silence. None of them were used to seeing Josephine in such a worrisome state.

 

“Alright, now that _that_ has been dealt with. I also would like Solas and Dorian to accompany us, so that they may study up on our new friends. Always know your enemy, right?” Lilith announced decidedly, sending her Dalish friend a swift glance.

 

He groaned, but did his best to hide objections. What a golden opportunity to make a fool of himself… _Again_.

 

The plans swiftly drifted from their people and centred on politics, which Adeus definitely did not care for. After witnessing the _longest_ conversation on Orlesian secrecy and betrayal, Lilith finally led him back into the open air of Skyhold’s gardens.

 

“So, how do you like my fortress?” She asked, giving him a nudge with her shoulder.

 

“I like the view.”

 

Lilith laughed at his response, asking without hesitation, “The mountains or the magister?”

 

“I’m serious! I’ve never seen so much snow in my life… Even if I don’t particularly _appreciate_ it.”

 

“Not many do… Anyways, Adeus, there was something else I wanted to—”

 

“Oh my Gods!” He was no longer listening, because out of the corner of his eye he spotted him; a brown and pink nug, digging up the Chantry Sister’s perennials. He sprinted off the path after him, and hoisted him out of the dirt seconds before he could scramble back into his den. Lilith watched, head cocked to the right—perhaps this would be harder than she thought. If Adeus didn’t wish to speak of a subject, he _didn’t_ , and convincing him otherwise was fruitless.

 

When he came trotting back to her, hair mussed and face muddied, holding a tiny nug in his arms, she accepted that she would need a more tactful strategy rather than her initial blunt bargain. His moods were fickle, the most delicate thing about the young elf. One moment he could be carefree, in a state of childlike exuberance, and the next he could be cruel, and deeply enraged. No one knew this better than her, for she grew up prancing about his mood swings, especially in their teens. She had _loved_ to anger him back then.

 

“He looks like my old pet!” Adeus announced excitedly, squeezing the poor thing against his chest.

 

“He does.” Lilith agreed, a smile forming on her red features as she watched the sight before her. “You can keep him, you know. Skyhold has a surplus of nugs since I accidentally on purpose brought back two herds. Cole loves them.”

 

“Cole?” Adeus wondered, looking up at her from his new friend.

 

Her crimson smile grew larger as she pondered the thought of introducing the two, and finally decided it would be a feat to witness.

 

“Follow me, I bet anything he’s in the tavern.”

 

“Sounds like my kind of people.”

 

“Not… _Exactly_.”

 

* * *

 

 

"Anger, lust, so similar to the bonds that restricted you, so why do you let them? Nights are not dark, nights are blue and green and deep. Nights are cold and engulfing and suffocating, prefers the sun though it burns and blistered beneath veiled wings."

 

"Ah... Right..." Adeus smiled awkwardly at Cole, thinking perhaps it might have been wiser to meet him with a tin helm safely protecting his thoughts from the strange little rogue. Still, he found him to be oddly fascinating, and  _charming_ in a sick sense. The kind of people he would lay down his life for, and might have to be ready to do so, he decided. Perhaps staying for a while longer wouldn't be the  _worst_ idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The library I described is sadly not a part of Skyhold. But I figured, with a fortress that freakin' big they could afford some shelf space somewhere! Picture [the Biblioteca Marciana](http://architizer.com/blog/architectural-evolution-of-the-library/) as an unseen private vortex of information, deep within the depths of the stronghold. Or whateva' you feel.
> 
> More about [Lilith](http://lavellanpls.tumblr.com/)  
> My [Tumblr](http://eluvianss.tumblr.com/)


End file.
